


Hold My Breath, Close My Eyes

by libellules_et_papillons



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fluff, M/M, Modern world, and not Luke, but only for some people, but with magic, like Mike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4583961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/libellules_et_papillons/pseuds/libellules_et_papillons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The minute it touches his tongue, he realizes he fucked up.</p>
<p>He barely stops himself from swallowing, spitting it back out into the sink. “Luke, wait!” he says desperately, but it’s done, Luke’s swallowed and looking at him with panic in his eyes and Michael’s trying desperately not to burst into tears. </p>
<p>“What?” Luke asks, voice a little higher in his panic, but Michael doesn’t know how to answer that. </p>
<p>Or, an AU where Michael can use magic and Luke doesn't know, until he accidentally drinks one of his potions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold My Breath, Close My Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt I read on tumblr but can't find again lol. Also I know Federer is Michael's dog but I wanted him to be a cat. 
> 
> Ashton's not here and I'm sorry but I'm thinking of writing a piece in the same AU with Cashton? Maybe. Anyway enjoy!

“Hold on, I’m confused.”

Michael sighs heavily, rolling his eyes and continuing to grab things out of his fridge. A black cat comes waltzing up on the counter next to him, sitting down with a flick of his tail. “Why do you need to get rid of all your potions again?” the cat asks.

“I’m not getting rid of them, I’m just moving them. Temporarily.” Michael replies. His arms completely full, he kicks the door shut gently with his foot and begins placing them in a cardboard box on the table. “Calum said he’d hold them in his fridge for a night.”

“Yes, I remember that.” The cat says. “I understand that. What I don’t understand is the _why_ , Michael. Why?”

“Because, Federer, Luke is coming over.” Michael says.

“And he can’t see them?”

“Ding ding ding, we have a fucking winner.” Michael mutters sarcastically.

Federer makes himself comfortable on the counter, laying down and lazily licking a paw. “I really don’t see the big deal, you know.”

Michael shoots him a look, pierced brow raised, and if cats could shrug he gets the feeling that’s what Federer would be doing right now. “Luke doesn’t know, Fed. I want him to keep liking me, not get freaked the fuck out because I’ve got a ton of creepy voodoo shit in my apartment.”

“You know very well it’s not ‘creepy voodoo shit’.” Federer replies hotly, and Michael closes his eyes and _breathes_. “It’s-”

“Very old, very powerful magic that’s been passed down in my family for generations, yeah I know.” Michael cuts him off. “I know it’s special stuff, I get it. But Luke might have a little more trouble accepting that. He didn’t grow up with it. I just don’t want to surprise him and freak him out, okay?”

Federer makes a small hissing noise and falls silent. Michael continues packing the containers away, but his hands are shaking just a little. Michael really hopes Luke will be okay with the whole magic stuff, but he also thinks that’s another worry for another time. He like Luke a lot, like a lot a lot, and he really wants things to work well between them. But he’s still so hesitant to bring it up, even though it’s been a little over a month. He promises himself he will, eventually. He’ll have to if they want to actually get anywhere, and Michael really does. But for now, he’ll deal with hiding anything even remotely magical in his apartment when Luke is over. It’s a massive pain in the ass and he had to practically beg Calum to agree to hold it all for one more time.

But, well, Michael’s nervous.

It’s not that there’s any rule that says he can’t date non-magical people, it’s totally fine. Hell, his dad didn’t have any magic, that was all his mom and her family. And Calum dated a few non-magics back in high school, too. It’s just difficult. They don’t know and it’s kind of a lot to throw at someone. Sometimes they take it fine, like his dad. But sometimes they don’t, like one of Calum’s exes, who freaked out so badly they’d had to erase a small part of her memory so she didn’t remember that Calum had magic in the first place. It happens, once in a while, and it’s shitty and it kinda hurts and Michael knows Calum is still bitter about it, even if he won’t admit it.

He’s praying he won’t have to erase Luke’s memory. And maybe that’s why he’s been putting it off for so long, the thought that maybe Luke won’t be okay with it and then he’ll lose Luke because really there isn’t any way to make it work. He can’t hide his magic from a partner for forever, it’s nearly impossible. He’s having a hell of a time with it now.

He closes the box and takes one last look around his apartment. It’s clean, in more way than one. He picked up and even dusted and vacuumed, and every magical piece he had lying around is tucked safely away, out of sight, out of mind. His apartment is officially Luke-ready.

He grabs the box and sweeps out the door, heading down the hall to Calum’s apartment. He knocks with his foot, shifting the heavy box in his arms. Calum opens right away, eyeing him.

“Last one?” he asks.

“Promise.” Michael replies with a toothy smile.

Calum begrudgingly takes the box from him. “This is the last time, Clifford. I mean it.”

He sighs. “Yeah Cal, I know.” He murmurs.

“I’m just trying to help. Honest.” Calum insists. “You should always tell sooner rather then later. Later just makes it hurt more if…” he trails off.

If they don’t take it well. The unsaid part of his sentence hangs in the air, and Michael runs a not-so-steady hand through his hair. Calum knows first hand, and Michael knows he’s just looking out for him. He knows how completely devastated Calum was when they’d had to erase a memory for the first time, remembers very clearly how long after that it took for Calum to piece himself back together again because damn if he didn’t love that girl with everything he had.

Michael just nods, throat suddenly thick. Calum sets the box down on the ground and pulls Michael in for a quick hug, which he appreciates much more than he’ll ever say out loud. “Good luck, bro.” Calum wishes him with a smile, and then he’s back in his apartment and Michael is walking back to his with butterflies in his tummy.

Federer is gone from the countertop when he walks in, and he’s glad. He asked the Familiar to make himself scarce, not trusting him around Luke, and he’s hoping with everything he has that the damn thing listens this time. He probably won’t, but he still hopes.

Luke arrives right on time, knocking on Michael’s door soon after. His stomach lurches at the sound but he ignores it, tries to calm himself as he opens and is greeted by the cutest person he’s ever met, beaming brilliantly at him.

“Hey, Michael.” Luke greets.

Michael steps back to let him in, immediately pulling him into a hug when he’s over the threshold. Luke chuckles and he can feel the rumble in his chest. Luke is warm and comfortable, familiar already, and smells amazing. Michael’s kind of hooked on him.

When he pulls back, Luke is still grinning. He leans in for a kiss, just a short, sweet press of their lips together but it still makes Michael’s head spin, makes him want about a thousand more kisses.

But then the kitchen sink is suddenly pouring water, and Michael wonders how pale his face is because he can almost feel the blood sinking from it.

“What-” Luke’s startled, turning to look at it as Michael rushes over and shuts it off.

“Damn thing,” he says, voice sounding shaky even to him. “Slips all the time, gotta get the landlord to check that out.” He adds a laugh that isn’t supposed to sound nervous but totally does, _goddammit_.

Luke gives him a look but mercifully says nothing else. “Movie?” Michael suggests, and that seems to work as a distraction because Luke’s grin in once again in place, following him over to his couch.

“Got anything good?” Luke asks, eyeing the small stack of DVDs laying next to the TV.

Michael scoffs, as if he’s personally offended. “I only own the best.” He assures.

Luke bites his lip, tugging the slim black ring inside his mouth as he scans the titles. “Really? Because I don’t see Mean Girls here, and that is definitely on the list of best movies.”

“Get out of my house.” Michael says flatly.

Luke laughs, and Michael can’t help smiling because he really has a super dorky laugh but it’s super cute and he really, really likes the sound of it.

Luke makes an excited noise suddenly, grabbing a movie and looking at Michael like he’s just found a million bucks. “Is this School of Rock? I haven’t seen this in forever!”

Michael laughs. “You like School of Rock?”

“It’s like my favorite movie ever, next to Mean Girls.” Luke replies. “Can we watch it?”

“Only if you promise to shut up about Mean Girls, god.” Michael says. He takes the movie from him and pops it in. Luke moves and makes himself comfortable on the floor, back against the couch. Michael walks around him and flops down on the couch, laying his head on the armrest and kicking his feet up over the other one. Luke’s directly in front of him, and he lets his head fall back to look up at him, blue eyes gleaming. He grins at Michael and Michael returns it, brushing his fingers through Luke’s soft hair. Luke closes his eyes, hums happily and Michael feels his heart race. Luke is so beautiful.

The movie starts and Luke turns his attention to it. Michael sort of watches, but he finds his eyes drifting to the back of Luke’s head often. That’s weird, Michael understands, very weird but Luke’s hair is soft and he’s got broad shoulders, exposed because he’s wearing a sleeveless shirt and Michael is going to enjoy the goddamn view, thank you very much. His boyfriend is beautiful.

Federer makes his appearance much too soon, and Michael nearly groans out loud. He comes creeping out of his bedroom and the glare Michael shoots him could freeze over Hell. That’s not really true and Fed’s probably got some wicked ancient old magics up his sleeve he could throw at Michael that would give him a run for his money, but Michael’s not scared to fucking fight that goddamned Familiar right now.

“Ah, its your cat!” Luke says. “What’s his name again?”

“Federer.” Michael mutters, and said cat waltzes right up to Luke and starts rubbing against his leg and purring like a fucking motorboat. His yellow eyes stare into Michael’s and Michael gives him a murderous look.

Federer stops purring and stretches his back, letting out a loud meow. The window on the wall behind the TV flies open loudly and Luke jumps.

“Holy fuck.” Luke breathes, hand on his chest. “What?”

“Wind.” Michael mutters angrily, getting up and slamming the window closed. He scoops Federer up from next to Luke, ignoring his angry hiss and says, “I’ll be back.”

Federer scratches the hell out of his arm and Michael doesn’t even care. He carries him to his room and quietly says, “Stop pulling stupid shit like that.”

Federer wriggles free and lands on his bed. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” And for a thousand-something year old Familiar, Michael thinks he’s pretty fucking good at sounding like a petulant five year old child.

“The window. Stop using magic around Luke.” Michael hisses.

“He’s going to know eventually. Just tell him. And I’m not the only one at fault here, if I remember correctly.”

And yeah, okay, maybe the sink was Michael’s fault. Sometimes he gets so overwhelmed when he’s with Luke that he slips up without realizing. Luke’s sweet little kiss had him all wobbly kneed and he might have accidentally turned the sink on. Whatever. Accident.

“Accidents happen once, not twice.” He says instead. He leaves the room and closes the door behind him, keeping Fed inside. It’s more on principle than anything, really, because Federer can open the door just fine on his own. But he won’t, and they both know it. They also both know that Federer will definitely spend the entire time he’s in there scratching the hell out of the poor door, but Michael’s willing to make that sacrifice.

Back in the living room, Luke is waiting. Michael thinks he maybe looks a little nervous and he can hardly blame the guy, but he doesn’t know how to fix it without coming clean and he’s still not ready to do that. Fed pulled stupid magic shit the last two times Luke was over as well, so he probably thinks the place is fucking haunted or something by now. There’s a reason he tries to insist on spending time at Luke’s place instead, but he’s not going to say I told you so. Instead he just leans down and presses a gentle kiss to his lips before sliding back onto the couch. “Sorry.” he murmurs.

Luke tilts his head back for another kiss and Michael complies, slotting their lips together perfectly. They pull away and Luke whispers, “It’s okay,” an easy smile on his face. He gets up and leans over Michael, who’s laying on his back, before leaning down and kissing him again. Michael welcomes this readily, always welcomes Luke’s wonderfully soft lips as he reaches up to wrap his arms behind his neck. He pulls slightly and then Luke drops down gently on top of him, their bodies pressed together as they kiss.

All thoughts of magic and Federer fly out of Michael’s head the minute Luke’s body hits his. Luke’s lips are just too amazing, too soft and warm and he’s a really fucking great kisser. Michael fists a hand in his hair. Luke bites his bottom lip softly and Michael lets him in, French kisses his beautiful boyfriend silly on the couch in his apartment.

It’s not until Luke starts to move his hips a little, when Michael can feel that he’s half hard (they both are, to be honest) and he starts to hesitantly grind his hips against Michael, like he’s going slow to make sure Michael wants this, that it happens again. Their half-hard cocks brush against each other and Michael can’t help the low moan that escapes him.

The light bulb above them _explodes_.

Luke screams, pulling away from Michael as the room goes dark. Michael stares up at him with wide eyes, lips parted, while Luke looks around almost frantically. Luke slides off him and Michael gets to his feet as well, disbelief on his face. Luke looks ready to either fight someone or run like hell, probably the latter, and Michael cannot believe that he _blew up his fucking light bulb._

Luke looks to him, blue eyes wide and questioning, and Michael just sort of sighs.

“I…” he falters, gestures helplessly before letting his arms fall back to his side. He’s so done with himself that he can’t even make up a decent lie. “I don’t really fucking know. I’m sorry.”

He mutters something about candles and goes over to his closet. He knows for a fact he’s out of light bulbs, but he remembers his mom sending him some weird scented candles once for some reason or another and he finds them tucked in a box. He pulls out two of them and goes to set them on this coffee table. He almost lights them with magic out of habit but stops himself at the last minute, digging his lighter out of his pocket. Finished, he turns back to Luke.

Luke looks scared this time, but maybe like he’s trying to hide it.

Michael figures he should probably come clean, even though he’d almost rather drink candle wax.

He takes a deep breath. “I should probably tell you something.” He says reluctantly. He pauses, then decides, “I need a drink, first.”

He goes over to the fridge, Luke following a few steps behind. He only sees a bottle of whiskey, but dammit it’ll do. He holds it up to Luke. “Want some?”

“Please.” Luke replies, voice thick, and Michael pours two shot glasses. He hands one to Luke, holds his up in a sarcastic kind of salute, and then kicks it back in one go.

The minute it touches his tongue, he realizes he fucked up.

He barely stops himself from swallowing, spitting it back out into the sink. “Luke, wait!” he says desperately, but it’s done, Luke’s swallowed and looking at him with panic in his eyes and Michael’s trying desperately not to burst into tears.

“What?” Luke asks, voice a little higher in his panic, but Michael doesn’t know how to answer that.

“I’m a fucking idiot, oh my god.” he mumbles to himself. “I cannot fucking believe-” He pulls at his hair, eyes squeezed shut. He’s so upset with himself he could throw up.

“Michael.” Luke’s hands are gentle around his wrists, pulling them back down to his sides. He still looks like he’s trying so hard not to panic and Michael feels absolutely terrible, but there’s also a gentleness about the way he looks at him which Michael really appreciates and even when Luke should be more worried about himself he’s still focusing on Michael and dear god this boy is too good for him. “What are you going on about? What happened?”

“I-” The words die on his tongue. _I accidentally just fed you a magical potion and have absolutely no recollection of what it is, just that I put it in my empty whiskey bottle and then forgot about it_ seems like it might cause a bit more panic. This was a terrible idea, everything about the day has been terrible. He should have just stayed in bed. Luke is never forgiving him for this.

But then Luke’s grip goes a bit more slack, and Michael can see his eyelids drooping and fuck, it’s already taking effect and he doesn’t even know what it is. Luke tries to mutter something but it works fast and Micheal can’t make out what he says. His legs give out and Michael catches him so he doesn’t fall to the ground, struggling to drag him over to the couch. When he’s got Luke safely there, he pulls out his phone to call Calum with trembling hands.

He needs some help.

 

* * *

 

When Luke comes to, he’s laying on the couch. He feels absolutely fine, just a little cold. He doesn’t really know what happened; he remembers drinking something that definitely did not taste like any whiskey he’s ever had, Michael panicking, and then it’s black. He sits up, rubs his eyes. He can hear Michael talking with someone, and Luke faintly recognizes the other person as Michael’s friend Calum, whom he’s met a few times.

“Christ, Mikey, what the hell is this?” Calum groans, and Luke turns to see them both sitting at the kitchen table, the bottle of whiskey sitting between them. Calum looks focused, his eyebrows pulled together as he stares down into a glass of the liquid. Michael looks absolutely miserable, head in his hands and what look like faint tear stains on his cheeks. Immediately Luke wants to wrap him in a hug, kiss away the tears and make him feel better. His apartment might scare the ever loving shit out of him, but Luke is still so far gone for this boy.

“What are you doing, guys?” he asks, standing up and walking towards them. They don’t look up, don’t even acknowledge that he said anything. He frowns, and Michael starts talking.

“I don’t fucking know, Cal. I remember I was fucking around with potions like, last month or something and I ran out of jars so I just enchanted this stupid whiskey bottle to keep this last one in and then I’d move it to a proper container later but I just forgot, I completely forgot that it wasn’t at all whiskey and Luke drank it, Cal, oh my god, what if he doesn’t wake up?”

He’s talking frantically and Luke has never seen this before, has never seen this side of Michael that’s not completely composed. Michael’s a pretty put together person, but right now he looks like he’s in a couple pieces. Luke moves over to him, goes to wrap his arms around him from behind but his arms don’t do that at all. They slide right through Michael, like he’s a fucking ghost or something and Luke can feel the panic rising in his chest again.

“Michael?” He tries, but again there’s no response as Calum starts talking, “Who the hell uses a whiskey bottle? You could have used literally anything else, it would have worked just fine.”

“It was just right there, I was drunk and I didn’t realize I’d forget about it and possibly poison my fucking boyfriend with it!” he snaps back.

_Poison, what._

“He’s not poisoned.” Calum says softly, and Michael deflates when Calum doesn’t fight him. “If it was really serious, Fed would help us out.”

“I’m gonna skin that fucking Familiar.” Michael grits out. “I tell him to leave all day and he doesn’t, and the second I need him, he’s gone? Be lucky your family doesn’t have a Familiar Cal, they fucking suck.”

“I take offense to that.”

Luke turns to see a shadow behind him, not really the shape of anything. “Nice to meet you properly, Luke.” And the voice seems to come from it.

“Uhm.” His throat feels like sandpaper.

“This one calls me Federer.” he says. “It’s degrading, really. I used to have a mighty name, a powerful one. But names get lost in time, and this family has always been extremely uncreative when it comes to that.”

Luke tries to swallow. He’s so confused.

“I’m going to be honest with you.” Federer says. “You’re just having an out of body experience. You’ll be fine when you wake up, and you’ll wake up whenever you ask me to release you. Michael seems to forget that I can leave my body as well. That’s why I’m here, not there. Look, you’re still on the couch and everything.”

Luke walks back over to the couch, and his heart nearly stops when he sees himself, curled up like he’s just sleeping. It’s surreal, to be looking down at himself like this, and he looks up at Federer again.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Unfortunately, that’s not my place to say.” He replies. “He may be young and inexperienced, but I still serve Michael and he has requested I keep silent on the matter. I don’t want to, but I don’t have a choice.”

Luke doesn’t know what to say, so he keeps quiet. Calum and Michael are talking again, and he finds himself getting pulled into the conversation quickly.

“He’s never going to forgive me.” Michael whispers, and his voice is so sad, so broken, that Luke just wants to kiss him over and over again so he doesn’t ever have to hear that. It breaks his heart.

“You don’t know that.” Calum says, but even he doesn’t sound really convinced. “Who knows, maybe he’ll wake up and have no idea what happened at all. You could have a second chance.”

“Or he might wake up ragingly mad because he thinks I tried to roofie him or something.” Michael groans.

“If he knows you at all, he’ll know you would never try something like that.”

Michael is quiet for what seems like a long moment before he says, “I should have told him right away.”

“Earlier, at least.” Calum agrees. “Magic isn’t meant to be hidden like that, it wants to be noticed. Dating someone without magic is hard.”

“How the hell did my parents do it?” Michael wonders. “I can’t even last a fucking month, how sad is that?”

Luke turns back to Federer. “You can take me back?” He asks.

“Yes.” Federer replies.

“Do it, please. I want to go back.” Luke insists. Absolutely nothing makes sense to him at all right now, but he recognizes the pain on Michael’s face. His boyfriend is hurting, and Luke may be confused as hell but the one thing he is sure of is that he needs to make Michael feel better because he can’t stand to see him so sad.

 

* * *

 

Luke stirs thirty minutes after passing out, and when he finally starts to move Michael is so happy he could cry. He still has no idea what Luke drank, but when those beautiful blue eyes meet his and a breathtaking smile stretches across his face, Michael suddenly doesn’t care as long as Luke is okay.

He’s at his side in second, frantically hoping Calum was right and the smile means Luke has no idea what just happened. “Hey there.” Michael murmurs, a small smile on his face, too. “How’re you feeling?”

Instead of answering, Luke places both hands on the sides of his face and pulls him in for a kiss. Michael goes willingly, kissing back hard and hoping everything is okay. When they break apart, Luke looks at him and says, “I met Federer.”

Michael doesn’t understand, because Luke met Federer weeks ago. Luke points to the whiskey bottle on the table and breathes, “Out of body experience. Which I’m still not sure I understand, by the way.”

It clicks in an instant, why Luke was out so long and why Fed wasn’t helping him. He looks at Calum, whose eyebrows shoot straight up into his hairline. “Did you say out of body experience?” Calum asks slowly, like maybe he didn’t hear him.

“Yeah.” Luke replies. “I was standing over there and lying here at the same time. I heard a little bit of what you said.”

Michael is in just as much shock as Calum; that’s a difficult potion to create successfully, and Michael managed it accidentally while drunk. Fed should be proud.

“You lucky bastard.” Calum says. “You lucky, lucky, son of a bitch. It could have been so much worse.”

Michael lets out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, oh my god.” He pulls Luke in for another quick kiss, so happy that of all the possibilities, that’s all it was. He can handle that. He can deal with an out of body experience.

Luke laughs softly against his lips, which is super cute Michael thinks, before pulling away gently to say, “So, I’m sorry for sort of eavesdropping, but uh, you mentioned to Calum that you should have told me something earlier? And I swear, uh, that I heard you say the word magic?”

And Michael can’t help that he gets a little tense when Luke says that, because he wasn’t planning on saying it tonight. But he also wasn’t planning on Luke taste testing an old potion either, so really what’s he got left to lose?

(He tries not to think about the answer to that.)

“Uh, yeah.” He says awkwardly, standing up. Luke looks up at him, blue eyes all curious and innocent and inviting, and Michael almost can’t do it, almost tells him to please just forget about it and never bring it up again. But Calum was right and he knows it; magic isn’t meant to be hidden like this. He has to tell him, and now is the chance, so he might as well take it.

“I’ll give you guys some privacy.” Calum says, slowly rising from his chair. Michael glances at him and the look his best friend gives him is an attempt at an encouraging smile. Michael smiles thankfully back and Calum slips out the door.

Michael runs a hand through his hair. “So,” he says, exhaling the word out in a breath. “Magic.”

“Magic.” Luke repeats, eyes focused on him.

“It’s real?” It comes out more like a question. Luke raises his eyebrows at him.

Michael groans, head in his hands. Takes a deep breath and looks at his boyfriend again. “Magic is real and I can use it.” He blurts out.

“You mean…” Luke pauses. “Like, spells and potions and shit?”

“Yeah.” Michael rubs his eyes. “Calum, too. A lot of people can, we just keep it a secret from the ones who can’t because some of them, um, can’t handle it well.” He chances a glance at Luke, who’s chewing on his lip ring in an admittedly distracting way and if Michael wasn’t so fucking nervous about this whole thing he’d be kissing the hell out of him.

Luke is quiet, so Michael just sort of keeps talking. “It’s really hard to hide and there’s a shit ton of memory spells all over the place to cover our tracks. There’s not, like, any kind of rule that says we can’t tell other people, we just don’t because it’s easier. But we’ve been dating for over a month and I really, really like you a lot Luke and I’ve been meaning to tell you but I’ve been so fucking nervous that you’d, I dunno, lose your shit or something and I just-”

He’s rambling and he can’t make himself shut up until Luke gets up from the couch and pulls Michael in for a sweet, long kiss. Michael immediately relaxes into it, kissing him back and feeling Luke’s hands rest at his waist.

When they pull apart, Michael can’t help the nervous tremor in his voice when he quietly says, “So you’re okay with it?”

“Of course.” Luke murmurs, and he’s looking at Michael like he’s the brightest star in the sky. “I’d ask for proof, but I’ve kind of already gotten it. So if this is part of your life, then it’s going to be part of mine, too. If that’s okay with you, I mean.”

The relief that floods Michael is so overwhelming he actually feels tears in his eyes. He laughs a little because of course it’s okay, of course of course of course and he can’t believe for a second that Luke might think otherwise. “Yes, yes, god yes.” he murmurs, peppering Luke with little kisses and he can feel him smiling into them. “Thank you.”

Luke hugs him then, envelopes him in his arms and Michael adores the way he fits perfectly there, loves how warm and loving it feels to be there with him. Luke whispers in his ear, “I have a secret to tell you, too.”

Michael pulls back, looking at him curiously. “What is it?” he asks.

Luke bites his lip again, looking just a little bit nervous and using a voice so quiet Michael almost misses what he says. “I think I love you.”

Michael’s smile feels like it could split his face in two. He feels a warmth blossom in his chest and he realizes, with Luke’s quiet confession and his beautiful blue eyes and literally everything about this amazing boy in front of him, that he thinks he does, too.

“I think I love you back.” he murmurs, and seeing the happiness burst on Luke’s face is so amazing and does so many things for him that all Michael can really do is kiss him again with everything he’s got.

The microwave beeps loudly.

Luke swears just as loudly, and Michael actually laughs out loud.

“Is that-” Luke looks at him like he’s suddenly realizing something. “Is that your magic?”

Michael has the decency to be a little sheepish in his smile. “I’m not exactly awesome at magic, and sometimes I accidentally do stuff when I’m, like, feeling a lot of things.”

The relief on Luke’s face is overwhelming. “I thought your place was haunted.” he admitted. “Shit, I’m so glad it’s not a ghost. I don’t know how to deal with ghosts.”

Michael wants to argue that he doesn’t really know how to deal with magic either, but Luke’s already kissing him again and he decides it’s not that important, anyway.

 


End file.
